The Thought Doesn't Always Count!

On my 17th birthday my 3 best friends surprised me by kidnapping me from my home and taking me to Sand Banks National Park to go camping. It was probably the best birthday I ever had. When my best friend, Meghan turned 17, I felt compelled to do something equally special. I wanted to give her something meaningful. Something I’d poured my heart and soul into and that showed her just how much I cared.

Despite not knowing how to sew, I decided that the most original thing I could do was create a handmade doll as part of her Birthday. I took two things that I knew about her- that she collected porcelain dolls and that she absolutely loved sun flowers- and I mashed them together.

I spent four months slaving over this two foot long sunflower doll that I created from old t-shirts, scraps of fabric and artificial leaves. I worked night and day. I dedicated after school hours to cutting and sewing and stuffing. I must have pricked my fingers 1000 times and I picked up some stitching techniques and knots along the way. Surely this was the greatest thing I had ever created! I swear, blood-sweat-and tears went into this doll and like most artists, I could see NO flaws at ALL with my creation.

I could barely wait to give it to her. On the day of her birthday, I orchestrated an elaborate reveal (where the path to the doll was littered with real sunflowers).

Her reception of the doll was not as warm as I had been expecting, but I chalked it up to her being overwhelmed by the greatness of the doll. She placed the sunflower person on top of her dresser and we went about celebrating the rest of her birthday.

Over the next few weeks I noticed that the doll had mysteriously disappeared. When I posed the question, Meghan told me it was in her closet because she needed the space on her dresser. It wasn't until several years later that I discovered the true reason:

It turns out, Meghan stashed poor Sunflower-Doll in a box in her closet because (I dragged this out of her) its' eyes followed her around the room at night and it was giving her nightmares.

Ten years later and Sunflower-Doll's fate was sealed in a basement flood in the late 90's. Where he is now? Nobody knows. But keep an eye out for glassy doll eyes following you in the dark of night!...

Muah ha ha ha ha....

MY SUBWAY & PREGNANCY NIGHTMARE!

I have a confession. I am a coward and did something spineless during one of my last visits to my home town of Bridgenorth. While on the way to my parent’s house, they had asked me to pick up some subs for the family to eat at the cottage. They gave me a detailed list over my cell phone of toppings and breads and sizes, which I repeated out loud for Stuart to hear while we were driving (two heads are always better than one, when taking orders).

When we arrived at the local sub shop of Bridgenorth, we both got out of the car and headed in, Stuart in the lead. I had taken two steps into the store when I noticed ‘OMG my ex boyfriend is standing at the counter ordering a sub!’. I immediately, without thinking, ran for the hills.

I dodged back to the car, keeping my head low- but when I tried the handle IT WAS LOCKED! (and Stuart had the keys). I looked for shelter elsewhere. I considered running into the local convenience store, but didn’t want to risk getting trapped in there if my ex decided to get dessert. I ran (and I mean it- I RAN) to the end of the strip mall and hid around the corner with my back pressed against the wall.

I knew it was an awful thing I had done. I had stuck Stuart with ordering everyone’s subs with only a secondhand knowledge of what they wanted, never mind sticking him with the bill for everything. But I simply couldn’t stand the thought of being spotted in dirty cottage clothes after a long car trip from Toronto, especially considering how drastically different I look from when he dated me (and not in a good way). So I hid.

I periodically peaked around the corner to see what was happening. When I saw Stuart come out with his bags of subs, looking around for me; I inconspicuously waved my hand. He spotted me and mouthed “what are you doing?” I managed to motion for him to drive the car over to me so I could jump in quickly (with some bizzaro charades display).

Needless to say, he was NOT happy and my excuse seemed terribly juvenile when I said it out loud. Everyone got a sub though- even if there were some discrepancies in orders- and I managed to remain elusive and unseen. Totally worth it!

My nightmare does not end there! It is every womans' worst nightmare to have a stranger insinuate that they are fat. The other day I was riding the elevator with a 'newly hired' coworker; I was carrying a big stack of documents and just minding my own business when this happened...

And of course, being the genius that I am- I immediated tried to diffuse to situation and minimize the awkwardness the best way I knew how...

I puffed out my stomach, leaned back and announced the possibility that 'yes, I might very-well be pregnant' when that is absolutely not the case (but I didn't want her to think she had just called me fat; better she think I'm stupid *rolls eyes*). In the end, she was confused; I was ashamed and neither of us wanted to speak to the other any more.

And my nightmare wouldn't be complete if the very next day I hadn't been trapped in the elevator with her again (just my luck). I decided I would be funny and announce "I'm six months today- hopefully 4 months tomorrow, ha ha". But she just averted her eyes and gave a half-hearted chuckle.

Just kill me. Until next time, loyal blog readers.